


Defect

by MLRDoyle



Category: My own fandom bitch!!!
Genre: Original Fiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2021-01-25 17:53:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21360262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MLRDoyle/pseuds/MLRDoyle
Summary: Don't have one yet sry babes (translation: even i got no clue where this story is going its changed genres like 3 times my dude, also, i cant be bothered to write one)
Kudos: 1





	Defect

**Author's Note:**

> I just needed a place to put this online so I can send to people for pointers so Its on here I guess!  
WARNING -  
Has the potential to be somewhat scary from chapter 2 onward so if you are prone to being scared, and don't want to be i recommend you don't read  
OTHER NOTES -  
In future advancements this story is going to become politically charged so if you don't want political undertones just a warning not to read as they will be present in future additions.  
I have no idea how much people comment on this site but if you have an issue with my political views ever please resist the urge to vent it in the comments.  
I also don't know how often ill get to update this but I hope often enough but ya know how that lethargy hits babey!  
Final note, I am aware fully how unrealistic the pregnancy scene is imma be real i have absolutely no clue what goes on in them delivery rooms but I will be completely altering that later with some help from family members once I have completed the main line of the story.

# Defect

## Chapter 1 – Delivery

I shook as the car skidded over the rumble strips on the side of the highway and grit my teeth through the hellish shoots of pain I get on every bump. The rumble strip we’re on only carries on for another minute or so before we can get back onto the road so I squint my eyes and squeeze my hands together until its over. We finally get past the mile long row of abandoned cars and piles of junk dumped all over both lanes and turn into the highway road through the tiny gap in the debris. My arm smashed into the side of the car as my dad took the sharp turn to get through the opening, if I were any less lucid right now id think we’d crashed about 10 times already from the amount of bumps and skids I’ve felt.   
  
Once we get on the highway the pains quieten down, I press both my hands flat against my belly, I let out a deep sigh of relief when I feel a tiny kick hit my palm. I rest my head on the back of the seat and start to do the deep breathing exercises my auntie recommended, 4 seconds in, hold for 7, breathe out 8. I manage to repeat this not 3 times before I’m jolted back by my mother in the backseat screaming and roughly shaking my shoulder.   
“Ralph! Ralph is she breathing? She looks dead? Is she dead? ARE YOU DEAD?”.   
“NO!”   
I scream over my shoulder as I pry her grip off of my shoulder.   
“Jesus I was just checking you were layin there with ya eyes closed!”   
she shouts back right into my ear. I just roll my eyes and get back to my breathing exercises but make sure to keep my eyes firmly open this time. I turn my head a little to the side to keep an eye on my dad, he always gets quiet in these situations, which is probably a good thing, it’s the tendency to pass out that I’m worried about. Drips of sweat roll down his big bald head and his shoulders are almost tensed all the way up to his jawline. He seems to be keeping it relatively together at least compared to my mother in the backseat who’s currently fanning herself with her little pocket fan she carries with her everywhere just to make the situation look that little bit more dramatic. We reach the turn off from the hospital off the main road and this one is luckily a lot clearer than the last, this one actually gets cleared because its in a more upper class district. I’ve been sitting here with my stomach nearly bursting for about an hour now. We could’ve been to our nearest hospital in around 10 minutes but none of us wanted to take our chances in the care of that one. It has budget problems o’plenty not to mention is always packed full of people, even in the accident and emergency department I’m not sure they know what emergency means judging by the waiting times. Once we get onto the turn off road we should be about 5 minutes away, any more and I think I’d be giving birth in the car.   
  
Dad carries on driving past the big apartment blocks and skyscrapers until we see the hospital. He knows the route off by heart, as soon as our local hospital started to go downhill he’d take a trip there every weekend until the way there until he knew it like the back of his hand, which was a good decision when things like this come up. He parks in the lot as close to the front entrance he can get, which is pretty close since he can use my moms disabled licence. Once he’s parked up he wipes the sweat off of his face and gets out of the car. Mom then gets out and makes her way round to my door and helps me out of the car and puts my arm round her. Even with her support I can only stumble and barely make it up the curb, dad walks ahead a bit getting my papers ready and stands by the entrance looking like he’s about to puke. I finally get in the hospital and I’m met with an empty waiting area apart from a receptionist and an old lady in a makeshift sling. My dad walks up to the receptionist, I can see him showing him my papers and explaining as me and mum make our way to him. As we slowly approach the receptionist picks up the phone and says only a few words before gesturing to a set of seats beside her desk. Dad walks up to me and mum and helps escort me to the seats, I barely perch myself on one before two nurses and a doctor come bursting through the doors to our left dragging a hospital bed along behind them.   
  
I am pulled back up and the nurses ask mom to step away while they help me up onto the bed. That was probably a good idea, I can barely waddle let alone get myself up onto a bed so I need all the help I can get. One of the nurses crouches down and hooks their hands under my legs while the other one grabs under both of my arms. They count to 3 before hoisting me until I’m just about on the bed. I can see them trying to hide their breathlessness, I’m guessing so as not to offend me but even I know I weigh about the same as a baby elephant right about now. The one behind me then tries to drag me back to get me more on the bed, I’m just about as numb to pain as you can be right now so I just let them do what they need to do and try not to start popping a baby out before we even get in the room. They finally manage to get all of me, which there is currently a lot of, onto the bed. I look over and see my mom half giggling at the whole ordeal and half crying because of it, I don’t even think she knows what emotion she’s feeling right now. One of the nurses wheels the bed along while the other nurse and doctor hold the doors open to get me through, with mom and dad trying to keep up along side me occasionally rubbing my hand when they can reach.   
  
We must have passed through about 5 sets of doors before they started guiding me off into a room. They push my bed until its backed up against the wall and then start fussing around the room and sticking all sorts of monitoring devices on me. At this point I’m just about ready to pop her out. The nurses are still running around hooking up random wires and scribbling stuff down notes, mom and dad get as close as they can to me without getting in their way. They look worried, and for good reason, but I don’t suspect the worry is as much for the birth as it is for the fact that we’re in the rich peoples hospital. So far there have only been a few glimpses of disapproving looks as we passed people in the halls but it doesn’t make the feeling that we shouldn’t be here any lighter.   
  
The two nurses leave the room hopefully to go finally get a midwife, while the doctor is awkwardly hovering around the side staring at his clipboard like it’s the only thing in the room. Mom and dad rushed over to the side of the bed as soon as the nurses were out of sight. Mom is hugging me so tightly I think she might squeeze the kid out of me and dad is lightly patting my head, he never was much good at comforting but I’ve learnt to appreciate the small awkward gestures like this. I smiled weakly at my dad over mums shoulder and his lip quavered, as if about to say something. A faint sound left his mouth but nothing more than that, he looked over to the corner of the room where the doctor was standing. I could only assume mom was crying from how long she had been holding me.   
“Its going to be ok, you’re in good hands-“  
I looked over at Dad again, I got the feeling he could see the worry in my face. I think I’d rather be taking my chances at our local hospital, the room was white all over with gleamingly clean tools and machines, but somehow I felt more unsafe than I had driving beside the fires on the way here.   
“I promise” he finished. Mum finally lifted her head up from my shoulder, her eyes were puffy and glazed and yet she wore the same reassuring smile as my Dad. As usual they could tell as hard as they tried to force them on those smiles weren’t working their charms.   
“A few days and you’ll be home with lil baby clementine”   
-seems like they’ve already decided the name-  
“and ill get yo daddy to make you some of that pizza we got in the freezer, without the plastic still around it, as it’s a special occasion”  
And the mischievous grin my mother is known for wraps itself around her face once more.  
“I did that one time Amie, one time and now you feel the need to bring it up every damn five seconds”  
moms grin only grows wider when she can tell its annoying him, that man really hasn’t learnt how she works after all these years. “I could’ve sworn it was two times? Maybe im thinking of the plastic wrapped chicken breast, or the bag of chips that could conveniently be microwaved whilst in the bag” , I can’t help but start to smile listening to their bickering.   
“You wait ‘til you get dementia you’ll be having plastic wrapped food every other day if you carry on”,  
“Aren’t we already?”.   
  
The doors behind them swing open once again fading her grin away and stopping Dads comeback in its tracks. I felt my own smile they’d managed to grow on me slip away too. One of them went over to talk to the doctor while the other awkwardly approached my parents. She gave a slight closed mouth smile and started,   
“the contraction she had was an extremely strong one so it’s likely to be the last one”,  
she stopped and stood with her eyes darting around the room. My parents, not sensing she was awaiting a response stood there as awkwardly as she did until I managed to squeeze out   
“ok”.  
I had been distracted so much id completely forgotten about the stabbing pain in my stomach until I attempted speaking which apparently hit turbo mode on the pregnancy and kickstarted another contraction. I was relatively happy to be preoccupied with the little chubster trying to get out rather than being held hostage in the painfully awkward standoff between my parents and the nurse. I squinted my eyes again and screamed so loud I heard the doctor jump. I think the nurse must’ve gotten the message, I couldn’t make out what she said through the ringing in my ears but the next time I opened my eyes my parents were backing up into the wall.   
  
The nurses began rushing around again, grabbing towels and pills. I kept looking at my parents trying to ease myself but I could see the worry in their face get even stronger and I knew it wasn’t about the hospital anymore, or the fear of a miscarriage. The sick feeling in my stomach arose above the stabbing pain once again. I had a bad feeling from the second I found out I was pregnant, I dreaded the day that was supposed to be every mothers happiest day of their life. Just the other month my cousin had her child, a little baby boy she only got to see for the few minutes the birth lasted before they took it for testing. Her baby had the defect, mom and dad along with the rest of the family have spent the last 9 months reassuring me time and time again the defect isn’t hereditary. I’ve scrolled through countless news articles debunking the defect as nothing more than a chance tragedy rather than the epidemic more local news articles have been painting it out to be. Even if this is true, the rate of babies being born with this defect has risen to around 30%. It doesn’t sound like the highest probability, but pair that with the chance that it could be even a fraction hereditary, they aren’t the most positive of statistics to think about. But never did I think my last thoughts before giving birth to my first child would be about statistics anyway I feel like some kind of maths nerd. Gross. I think the overthinking comes with being overwhelmed with panic on top of having a baby headbutting the inside of my womb.   
  
One of the nurses turned to my parents while placing some towels on my chest,   
“We’re going to need you two to go out of the room”.   
“Our grandchild is being born we’re not leaving the room”.  
The nurse shot my dad a glare, I couldn’t tell if it was more surprise that he would protest or more anger that he would.  
“sir we need all the space we can ge-“,  
“we’re not leaving the room”.  
As soon as mom chirped up I think the nurse made the wise decision to back down.  
“If you won’t leave the room we’re going to need you right up in the corner”,  
they walked backwards and slotted themselves between the cabinet and the wall over to the right of me. I could tell the nurse still wasn’t happy about it but she knew that was the most cooperation she was going to get. The silence from that point onwards was somehow even more painful than the contractions. Or maybe not.   
  
The nurses were still gathered around me fumbling around with some fluids and sticking tubes into my arms while the doctor sprinted out the room. As if by magic as soon as the doctor left the room the pains grew 10x worse. Thankfully the doctor soon after rushed back in with what I could only assume was a midwife. She looked just about as worried as everyone else in the room did, actually more haunted than worried. I think I’d look haunted if every delivery I made could ruin someones dreams of being a parent. She came right over to me and pulled my legs up and the pain hit stronger than ever. I screamed out and it echoed off the white walls back at me hitting my ears like a bullet. I kept screaming and screaming, I couldn’t make out much of what was happening, the tunnel vision only giving me a tiny window of vision.   
“Its ok baby I’m still here”  
mums shaky voice appeared beside me again but I couldn’t care much for delivery room etiquette right now.   
  
The more I screamed the worse the pain got but I finally felt some release. The next minute or so after the head passed were a complete blur. I could feel throbbing pains but the pressure was gone and my tunnel vision was fading either because the pain was gone or because I was forcing it with all my will to. I sat myself up as much as I possibly could with half of my body being more tender than a chunk of beef.   
“Its a girl!!!”   
my dad screamed so loud I think it hit more decibels than my giving birth screams. I could hear mum too but god alone could only make out what she was saying, it sounded like an alien language, but if the alien was extremely choked up.   
“Hello baby”, “Haven’t you got the chubbiest little cheeks in the world”  
“You look just like your mother did when she was born”.  
I started to tear up hearing my parents gush over her.   
“But not as ugly”.  
Nevermind. My vision was clear enough now to make out my mum holding her, with my dad peering over her shoulder with the biggest grin imaginable plastered onto his face. I let out a laugh of a mixture of relief and joy.   
  
Mum looked over to me and walked towards me. She brought the baby towards me cradeling her in her arms and placed her on my lap. I put one arm under her head and the other beside her to bring her closer to me. My eyes watered relentlessly, I watched the tears fall onto her chest as she laid there crying. I never thought I’d be so happy to hear a sound as loud as that but its all I’d ever wanted to hear. She had a small amount of thin, dark hair stuck to her head above her eyes, outlined by thick eyelashes. Her face was chubbier than you’d see most babies to be just like mine was. I took my hand up and stroked her cheek and more tears came flooding out of my eyes like someone opened a dam.   
  
“M’am we need to do checks”  
My head jerked up to see the nurse walking back over to us with her arms out. I pulled my baby even closer to my chest and mustered up as much grip strength as I could after all that to keep my arms locked around her, which wasn’t a lot. As she got closer my mums arm shot out in front of her too.   
“Just give her 10 minutes”  
“These are important checks its manditory to do them right after she’s born, to make sure no one gets attatched”   
I look at her face as she says those words, no emotion, no reminence of compassion or sympathy crosses it as she speaks.   
“I’ve already given you more time than I should have” She reaches her arms under my mums arm and over mine and lifts up my baby. I have no strength in me to even lift my arms high enough to try and take her back, I feel helpless. I look to mum, as I always do when I feel helpless and see her make her way in front of the bed towards the nurse.   
“Please, I’m only doing my job. Its a few checks and if everythings fine you’ll have her back as soon as I can get her to you”  
Mum stops in her tracks looking as helpless as I am as the nurse walks through the staff only doors with my child.


End file.
